


Special Occasion Napping

by suqua (cwsunrise)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, M/M, Napping, Vaguely Hinted Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:52:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwsunrise/pseuds/suqua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson keeps his promises, even the dumb ones Clint forgot about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Occasion Napping

**Author's Note:**

> My fic response to [a post](http://clarkgreggnog.tumblr.com/post/86290365209/jeremy-ruiner-coulsons-birthday-gift-to-clint).

Coulson is staring intently at his watch for nearly three minutes straight. Clint doesn’t know why but he knows it’s nearly midnight. He assumes it has something to do with mission parameters, though they aren’t to head out until morning. Not that it matters, since Clint’s gonna be up all night anyway.

The clock strikes midnight with silence, then Coulson’s dropping his arm and looking at Clint steadily: “Go to sleep, Barton,” is what he says, very seriously. “I will wake you at 5am so we can suit up and head out.” 

Shaking his head, Clint flips through the folder of nearby restaurants and room service. He’s not hungry either, just wanted something to do. “I’m good, sir, you can take the bed.” 

"Barton," Coulson says again, "Go to sleep."

Clint looks up at him that time, looking away from the dessert options. “I said I’m fine?”

Nodding, Coulson taps his watch with a single finger. “It’s your birthday, Agent Barton. Take a nap.”

It takes Clint just a second to remember. 

 

_"Sir," Clint slurs a little, lazy mouth forming a ‘shi’ noise that bothers him but he presses on anyway. "Kin’a sleepy. Think ‘could take a nap f’ li’while?"_

_"Not a chance, Barton," Coulson tells him, literally dragging him by the sleeves of his vest. "Stay with me."_

_"But, nap, sir," Clint protests, trying to focus his eyes. His stomach feels weird, feels heavy and then there’s something soaking through his shirt._

_Coulson sighs and props him up against something. There’s noises, loud ones, but Clint can’t hear them. “You can nap later,” Coulson tells him, squinting at Clint’s face, holding up his chin so Phil can look at Clint’s eyes._

_"Please…" Clint mutters, feeling on the edge of unconsciousness already. He was a good listener, when it came to Coulson, so he held out. "Jus’a minute."_

_"No," Coulson tells him again, mouth pursing as though he doesn’t like what he’s looking at on Clint’s face. Kinda rude. "Later, I said."_

_"C’mooon."_

_Coulson sighed. He glanced over Clint’s shoulder, then behind them. “You can nap later, in an actual bed.”_

_That almost sounded good. Almost. “I’ll wake up again,” Clint tries promising._

_Instead of answering that time, Coulson looks around them, in Clint’s pockets and his own pockets. He must’ve found what he was looking for because a second later he’s looking at Clint again. At that point, Clint’s eyes are starting to close and Phil has to slap him to get him up again. “Hey,” Coulson says urgently, giving him a small smile when Clint’s eyes open again. “Right now, I need you awake. Sleeping is a special occasion-only kind of thing right now, okay?”_

_Clint nods. “Like- like my birthday?”_

_"Yes! Exactly," Coulson says, starting to fumble with Clint’s vest. "You can sleep as long as you want on your birthday."_

_At the moment, it sounds great, “Promise?”_

_"I promise."_

_Clint feels pressure on his stomach. “Mmk,” he mutters, almost closing his eyes but remembers the promise just in time. He stares at Phil instead. “Hey, Phil…”_

_"What?"_

_"Is it my birthday, yet?"_

 

"That was like, eight months ago," Clint says, grinning. "You remembered?"

Phil shrugs. “Kind of hard to forget the time you were bleeding and concussed, begging for a nap,” he points to the bed, “Now, go to sleep.” 

Clint can’t argue with a birthday present like that, so he shrugs and climbs into the bed. “Thank you, sir,” he says with a grin, pulling the blanket up to his shoulder. 

"Happy birthday, Agent," Coulson says quietly, going back to the paperwork he’d been ignoring while he’d watched the clock. 

 

* * *

 

_years & years later_

"Okay, we need to renegotiate terms."

Phil looks up from his book, settled in the living room with reading glasses by the sunnier window of the apartment. “What terms?” 

Clint’s standing directly opposite the coffee table from Phil, holding a pillow and looking a little like a fluffed up bird with his mussed hair. It’s a pajamas kind of day, so he’s in striped bottoms and shirtless. Clint hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “It’s my birthday nap time and I don’t like napping by myself anymore… I blame you for that, by the way.”

Phil’s head tilts up like he’s about to nod because he gets it quite suddenly. “Oh, you want-“ 

"I want," Clint affirms, turning around and heading back to their bedroom with his favorite pillow. 

Phil smiles and gets up because… well, how could he argue with that?


End file.
